Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Brunei and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Crispy Ambulance to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Fear,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Martian,
This Heat,
Lee Hazlewood,
Crash Course in Science,
Ultra Naté,
kango's stein massive,
Ornette Coleman,
The Tremeloes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Fugs,
Babytalk,
Con Funk Shun,
Minnie Riperton,
Glenn Branca,
K-Klass,
Junior Murvin,
The Mummies,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rosa Yemen,
Ossler,
Colin Newman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wasted Youth,
The Stooges,
Dead Boys,
Don Cherry,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Wally Richardson,
The Offenders,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marc Almond,
EPMD,
Sight & Sound,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Thee Headcoats,
FM Einheit,
Outsiders,
June Days,
Little Man,
Kaleidoscope,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lalann,
Sarah Menescal,
Main Source,
Can,
Bob Dylan,
Pantaleimon,
Smog,
Interpol,
Minutemen,
The Techniques,
Funkadelic,
Heaven 17,
Quando Quango,
Newcleus,
The Red Krayola,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.